


Shadows dancing

by siren_of_the_ocean



Series: Tim Drake AU's [15]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Experimental Style, Gen, Hurt Tim Drake, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Protective Jason Todd, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26873542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siren_of_the_ocean/pseuds/siren_of_the_ocean
Summary: When absolutely everything goes wrong at a gala, the son of a colleague drugs Tim and tries to drag him away.Luckily, Jason is having none of it
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Tim Drake AU's [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853161
Comments: 20
Kudos: 358





	Shadows dancing

Tim was used to galas. Jack and Janet had dragged their child everywhere, when they were present at all. So I know galas. Knows that they are stuffy and uncomfortable, loud and annoying. 

But the CEO of Wayne Enterprises has to be seen at the gala for the company. 

Some of the attendants, though. Could get a bit…handsy. They think me to be a child, inexperienced and naïve. Easy to take advantage of. Oh, how wrong they are. But there is no way to prove them wrong. Not without consequences that will affect the entire BatFamily. So I hold on and hold strong, as well as I can. Laughing nervously when old ladies pat my cheeks and squirming away from wandering hands. Never retaliating. 

It’s only tonight where everything goes wrong. 

You see, I might be used to the harassment but Jason…. 

It all starts with a simple dance. One of the sons of the board of directors had approached me for a dance and I had graciously accepted, knowing that there was no way out anyway. The man had given me a drink, just some juice to “help cool you off” after dancing around the stuffy ballroom. 

That’s when I start to feel funny. Knowing what the effects of drugs feel like, I run the symptoms through a mental database. Light-headedness, shadows at the edge of vision and a swirling sense of nausea. Ketamine. 

The man…I think before starting to sway. “Must have had too much to drink” The man excused to an investor. “Must have been the heat” to another. Never consistent, but I am already too weak to intervene. The shadows explode into being, much like the effects of fear gas. The nausea swells to a point where I have to make an effort not to throw up. 

Calling for anyone would be bad, I think. That would just cause a mess, on the floor and me and this guy. Probably the investors too. Which would be bad. But this isn’t a great situation to begin with. The drugs and the investors now thinking that they’re teenage face of the company is an alcoholic. 

Looking around makes my stomach swirl once again, bile building at the back of my throat but it yields rewards. 

There, near the back of the room, stands a huge man, with a white streak in black hair. Jason. Jason would help, I think. The thought helps. Gives me strength to open my eyes and look directly at Jason, staring in a way that is detectable and obvious, especially for a Bat. 

Jason obviously feels the staring, turning to glance around the room almost nonchalantly. That feigned nonchalance stops the second the man tries to tug me out the door. Jason’s eyes flare green for a moment before feet storm toward us through the crowd, pushing people aside with no care. A few stop to demand an apology but quickly leave at the sight of Jason’s obvious rage. 

It doesn’t take long for the group in front of us to split, Jason appearing before the attempted kidnapper or whatever. The leather jacket combined with the green eyes and the folded arms makes Jason seem intimidating to anyone. Especially with the height added on. It’s no surprise when the man stops, fidgeting before he tries to give Jason some form of excuse. 

“Timbo, you alright?” 

I can’t actually answer beyond a Batman-like grunt, the nausea and dizziness keeping my tongue stuck to my palate. That must be enough of an answer, since Jason immediately drags me out of this guy’s arms. 

“What did you give my little brother, you creep?” 

“I gave him nothing. As I said, must have had too much to drink” 

“Underage, dumbass, Tim wouldn’t drink a drop. Especially not in front of the sharks. So. What. Did. You. Give. Him” 

That’s when the guy evidently decides to abandon ship, taking off through the crowd at lightning speed to avoid Jason following him. Not that Jason could follow him while holding my weight. 

Instead, Jason growls in displeasure before dragging us both out of the ballroom and toward the family rooms. At the very least, the gala was at Wayne mansion and thus not far from bed. But Jason drags me past my old bedroom to Bruce’s study. Down the stairs to the cave. 

“Wha? Whyyyy?” I complain, only really thinking about sleep at the moment and trying to ignore the shadows as they sway and beckon and snarl. 

“You’ve been drugged, dumbass. Can’t go to sleep until we know what’s in your system and if it’s safe to fall asleep” 

“Ketamine” the word falls from my lips almost without my notice, which is most likely not good. 

But Jason just sighs and draws a blood sample, running it through test after test to make sure that there isn’t more to this than it appears. 

It turns out to be just ketamine, a somewhat low dosage, at least. So Jason hooks my limbs onto the monitors in the med bay, monitoring my vitals as I drift off to sleep. 

The next morning is hectic, waking up to Bruce yelling and Jason simply standing there with a smile. Confused, I sit up, before stopping when the memories from last night flood in. But that isn’t the important part. 

The important part is the splattering of blood on Jason’s feet, the gunpowder burns on fingers and the residual green around blue iris. Jason must be pissed. And then. Jason explains. 

Explains how some guy had drugged me last night and attempted to drag me out of the party. Explained how I had stared at Jason until I caught attention and how Jason had brought me back to the cave to test for every drug known to man. 

Ketamine. 

But then. Jason had gone hunting, found the guy from last night and brutally beaten him to a pulp. Not to death, at least. But the shot through the muscles and tendons of the right hand would make it difficult to ever drug someone again. It was also a brand. A sign of being on the Red Hood’s shit list. 

Absolutely deserves it.

**Author's Note:**

> Small experiment to see if writing without using the pronouns he/him/his is possible. Just a random drabble really.


End file.
